A storm of spears
by talking cockerel
Summary: Onboard the Seamaster, Kaname Kuran is the newest, boldest crew member and has been challenged to a nigh impossible task - bedding the strict and disciplined Captain Kiriyu. K/Z, Z/K, yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

Hi all! Another story featuring my favourite VK pairing. Enjoy!

* * *

He was the newest addition to the crew of the _Seamaster, _having cast in his lot with Captain Zero Kiryuu's crew when he signed on the ledger after a quick glance at the names of the other sailors.

"His name's Kaname Kuran, sir," the first mate Tarren told Zero Kiryuu, pointing him out to the silver haired captain with a muscular brown forearm. Kaname was dark haired and very tall, well muscled but not brawny like most other sailors. Oddly enough, his skin was smooth and the colour of milk; milk on his face, milk on his arms, milk on his chest and torso.

Captain Kiryuu eyed him, and snorted disinterestedly.

"He's a lady, but give him no quarter for that. Nobody signs on to relax."

"Aye, sir."

Some sailors immediately took on to Kaname, for they were old and seasoned crew of Zero Kiryuu, and welcomed a fresh face and young voice. They envied his bright eyes, his charisma and zest, remembering that all young man began that way, and that all young men were eventually worn down by routine and mistreatment.

Others took to him in a different way, eyeing his shoulder length hair, thick and wavy like a girl's, his limbs that were hard and lithe yet almost slender beside theirs, his skin with its tight creamy sheen. They marked his body with their gazes, ravished his back when they thought he wasn't looking, and replayed dark fantasies in their minds.

Still others greeted him with the same sullen glare that had grown on their faces, treated him to a permanent scowl and then busied themselves with tasks that had become the sole center of their lives.

Kaname was likeable enough – he attended to chores with the speed and efficiency of an old sailor and the vigour of youth; he asked and got the names of his crewmates. There was Gad the cook, who slammed hard bread and tepid tea in front of them every morning; Tarren and Hern, the first and second mates who gave orders and sneered at the sailors down their crooked brown noses; one-eared Jack, a short, swarthy ape who could pull twice as strongly as other men; Beak, with a mouth shaped like one; Red eye, who roared and bellowed perpetually; there were nine others besides, and all of them had crewed for Captain Kiryuu for years.

"What's he like?" Kaname had asked Beak on his first day. Having polished the masts, reefed the sails and tended to the spars all day, they were now scrubbing the forecastle deck in the blistering afternoon heat.

Beak grunted in reply and wiped sweat from his brow. He knees were too rough and calloused to feel sore from hours of kneeling, his back was used to being bent over this menial task, his skin was black as tar from the sun and would not burn.

All the same, he found the question stupid and annoying.

"Guess I'll find out soon enough," Kaname shrugged. He saw Miles and Keith watching him with one eye, and noted the lecherous gleam beneath their shaggy brows. Kaname turned his back and stretched like a cat, baring his smooth white back and working his defined shoulders. Turning back around, he winked saucily at the both of them.

"Go back to your work, pretty boy," Hern snarled, lumbering up with a belaying pin and whacking Kaname hard.

Kaname backfisted the second officer on the jaw, making him stumble back.

"I wasn't leaving it," he retorted, scowling. Hern regained his footing, and his eyes narrowed ferociously.

"How dare you hit me, boy? The captain will hear of this!" Hern threatened. His lip had split and he licked blood from the corner of his mouth.

"I'm green by your standard, but every seaman worth his salt knows no captain bothers about the petty squabbles of his crew. That said, I suppose you're about as bland as grass, eh?"

Kaname returned to his task, and Hern, wondering whether he had been insulted yet finding nothing to fault at the moment, stalked off, broken lipped and glowering.

"What?" Kaname asked, when he saw Beak shaking his head. The old sailor responded with another question.

"Guess how he got hes name?"

"What...Hern? If you ask me, it's because he looks fit to burst his britches. Tight as a bustier on a whore!" (1)

The last statement provoked gales of laughter from the men around him. Beak chuckled, shaking his head again.

"You've got sugar on yer tongue and butter tha' won't melt in yer mouth, laddie, as me ma used ter say. Min' it don' get yer int' hot soup ... some of 'em aboard here wanna put it to other uses..."

"I'd welcome the challenge. Seems little enough deviation from routine here," Kaname grinned.

"Don' cher go showin' them big words 'round here, now," Finn barked. The handsome helmsman, tall and flaxen haired, jerked his chin in the direction of the captain's quarters. "You be naught but a minnow in shark territory."

"Hern and the first officer?"

"Little enough as makes no difference, pretty boy. Now keep shut that sweet mouth of yers, or Hern will have our hides for laziness!"

* * *

Supper was an uproarious affair that first night; Captain Kiryuu had ordered a barrel of rum open for the men as a gesture of goodwill, and the men, minus the captain and his officers, had a fine time amongst themselves, even the most silent ones.

"I gots twelve cuts on me arms – count 'em, twelve! – for every jack I whacked down at the arena at Yeman. Ain't no bugger a match for Miles the Mastiff -" Miles bragged, showing off the bumpy scars on his massive forearms. "- and ain't no woman able ter resis' me neither!"

"Ain't no woman got any need ter try, Miles!" Keith taunted; Miles scowled and the men hooted.

"Imma known an' famoose through ou' theh Ir'sh Sea, I am!" Gad said in his heavily accented voice.

"One whiff of yee underarms and the sleepiest laggards' outta bed, eh?" Jack teased, for the smell of garlic, spices and herbs clung constantly to the cook. Gad ignored him.

"Ain't no town withou' a pretti ladeh tha' dunno my name. Me and me ladies and our kids, they all gonna grow up an' earn gold, silver, jewels -"

"Yer garden of spuds and beets is what gonna grow up, and into that pot-belly o' yours..."

"Wha's it in Captain Kiryuu's crew for ye, young Kuran?" Beak asked, and the others clamoured to hear the newcomer's story.

"Wages!"

"Women!"

"Ale!"

"Our's valuable comp'ny!"

There was a round of laughter and back slapping, which echoed off the wooden walls of the hold.

"Why, adventure, of course! Over the masts, under the spars and between the sheets!" Kaname replied easily to unanimous agreements from the men.

"I knew it! Them eyes an' skin an hair, you be twisted an' a captain's dog through and through!" Red-eye bellowed.

"You knew wrong! I am no sealord's toy – rather, I am skilled with blade and harpoon. I have come aboard the seamaster to spear me a certain silver shark!" Kaname declared.

There was a noisy chorus of disbelief.

"Perish the thought! Gad an' me, we been crewing for Cap'n Kiryuu for nigh eight years – since he was, what, eighteen?"

"-Seventeen-" Gad chimed in.

"-Seventeen, and every jack on board with more than ten years over him...the Cap'n ain't ever let anyone get out of line, he's one with a mouth of iron and words of steel. You be in for a lost cause, Kuran! He an' his brothers, all descended from dukes or earls, honourable an' the like, no ho'es, (2) even..."

Kaname snorted. "They're all the same, and even highborn lords get lonely at sea, eh? Two arms, two legs, a spear...or not, for some unlucky weasels...I've never lost yet!"

"Fine then, boy...how's this? I'll wager yer half my pay of this trip that yer can't win this –" Beak lowered his head and voice for effect, and the others leaned in eagerly.

"- Half of fift'n pounds silver sez yeh can't bed the captain – in his own cabin – before we make ashore in Torido. If yer as good as yer make out to be, take it!"

The contest fell on silenced men with stunned expressions. It was unbelievable, impossible, and utterly ludicrous. The captain was master, ruler, king; nigh untouchable and far above any of them. One word against a sailor from his captain, and the sailor would be ruined for life.

Kaname and Beak stared into each other's eyes, one agape, the other grinning.

"Come on, boy, what sez ye? Give us old weeds a bit o' show, right?" He raised his voice. "Who else wants ter see this upstart taken down a peg or two? Half our silver! No, wait – _if he comes back fer more, an' we're there to see, _we'll make it two thirds!"

Another silent communion, then –

"Ah, yer wench! Go on, then – I'll cast my lot with Beak! Half or two thirds my share, depending on yeh luck!" Finn growled, breaking into an almost feral grin.

"Count me in!"

"Me too!"

One by one, all the sailors joined in, and they waited for Kaname to accept, knowing that for him to refuse now would name him a coward at most and a liar at best.

He must have been drunk on bravado and exhilaration from the heady ale and the wild salty wind.

_That's more than seven times of silver. Just - bed him. Then make him ask for more._

"Deal!" he roared. A fist slammed the table, and he spat on it; after which there was an enthusiastic addition of ale-flavoured saliva from the men onto the table.

"Ah en't clinning tha' up," Gad said, eyeing the disgusting mixture of spit.

"Lor, jes you breathe on it, it'll sour right off, that will –"

* * *

Ha! It's definitely not my usual plot...I had several ideas for an AU Kaname/Zero story, because the whole vampire-human thing seems rather overdone. Some which I liked had Kaname and Zero as, respectively,

1. A king and a vassal, in which Zero, the king's lover, betrays Kaname and and has to be excuted for high treason... (unfold the drama) but I thought all the necessary emotions and angst would bog it down and make it too slow. And, it's a common plot.

2. Rival criminal warlords in the Tokyo underworld, with lots of greed, manipulation, corruption...but I lack ingenuity to think of complicated twists and plotlines.

3. A lord and his mercenary, meaning Zero's "in command." It would be interesting, but mercenaries are, well, fighters, so nonstop fighting would make kinda poor fanfare...(get it? fanfiction-fare? ha ha sorry.)

But anyway, yes, those were some ideas I had. Eventually I decided to start on this first, it seemed less "massive", and also I wanted to take Kaname out of his cozy comfortable "pureblood" setting and chuck him into a rather lewd one - for fun!!

I am really, really sorry about the lack of updates, because, because ... School! A pathetic excuse, but this is my last year in high school and I have a major exam. Plus I migrated, so the whole change of school and uprooting thing.. you know.

And, IlonaPixie, in case you're reading this, I'm so sorry about the requested Sephiroth/Vincent fic!! I've been squeezing my brain for ideas and I love that pairing too, but... no light bulbs yet... I'm trying! So sorry!!

Oh, just in case : referring to the story above, (1) "Hern" - Hernia - Rupture of the flesh; "burst his britches/ boots" extremely arrogant, in a bad way. (2) Hoes - slang for whores.

My speech spelling and grammar is not atrocious! I'm trying to emulate the way sailors speak. Do you get the innuendoes? There are quite a few ;D.

Thank you for reading! Any constructive criticisms are welcome, and if you want chapter 2, REVIEW!!

PS : I like my title! Do you? heh!


	2. Chapter 2

Hi all! Sorry for the long wait. I shall try to update more frequently - this and my other stories as well. Cheers to YenGirl, who inspired me to use songs in my story! Thanks for the idea, Yen! Also, my gratitude and appreciation to all the reviewers!

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Chapter 2

People thought it was an easy life, being a sailor. Tales of courageous voyages and terrible thunderstorms were always over romanticized, glossing over the boring, mundane parts of a life at sea. Kaname had been with many people, boys and girls alike. Surprisingly enough, the lasses who were experienced enough with men knew the hardship of a seahand. It was the young boys, with their soft hair and quick hands, that always asked for breathtaking stories of seafaring...breathtaking, indeed...

Beak swung by with two huge buckets filled with murky green gunk and emanating a foul odour that clung to his soiled garb and greasy lank hair. The hook nosed sailor was in a foul mood, too.

"I be'n scrapping the hull all day, boy. Damn sea mud(1), just grows and grows like snot ... what a dirty and thankless job..." still muttering, he hauled the buckets up and over the edge of the ship, emptying its contents in to churning water.

Kaname's pounded oakum into the deck. It was backbreaking work, with the afternoon sun bestowing its merciless glare upon the sailors. Salty wind whipped through his hair, mingled with the scent of tar and dried hemp. It was not an unpleasant smell, but Kaname would have much preferred to be aloft amongst the sails.

Just then, the bell tolled eight times, signalling the end of their duty. Kaname whooped as he straightened and stretched his shoulders, and Finn, having manned the wheel for four hours, sighed in relief. There were six people in that watch – Finn, Beak, Kaname, Jack, Keith and Miles, and there was a chorus of grunts and snorts as they left their posts and retreated into the forecastle while the other watch took up duty.

"First week o' sailin's always the worse," Keith complained as he sank down into his hammock, the support creaking fitfully. "I miss the company, the food, the freedom...the women..."

"Ah, ale's always sweeter in the other port," Miles concurred vaguely.

"'The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence'," Kaname corrected.

"Bah! This ain't no grass an' we ain't no sheep neither..."

"Aye, but all the same I'd never want another life. The sea's all I've known," Beak grunted. "Why don' cher sing us a song, Finn, go on – that one about sailing and all..."

"Not now," Finn muttered, taking a swig from his skin. "My throat's right shrivelled as sandpaper."

"Aw, go on – Kaname here en't heard it yet."

"Aye, go on! A song to liven our work!"

And so the flaxen haired European swung his long legs up, settled in his bunk and broke into a jaunty sea ditty:

"_Oh, I love to be aboard a ship _

_And sail the great high seas!_

_Though I liked root, tree and flower_

_I was never a land lover!_

_Give me wave and wind anytime please!_

_Oh, I love to set sail in a tub_

_With lard and tea for grub!_

_Scale the mast and foredeck_

_Ahoy, avast and haul back!_

_Pull her up - or she'll sink like a sub!"_

His voice was a strong baritone, and echoed in the forecastle to a round of tired cheers.

Keith, the resident joker, stood up and added his own lines in a catchy rap :

"_Out with the lasses! Off with them dresses!_

_Pay a penny or more for the one with clean tresses!" _

He sauntered to Kaname, caught his arm and pulled him to his feet, the other hand tugging playfully at his pants.

" – _Your eyes on her legs, just one quick daring peek – " _

Kaname grinned and cupped Keith's face almost lovingly, adding,

"_ – no messing around now, you mind your own manners _

_Or you'll get a red hot kiss and two slaps to your cheek!"_

Jack and Beak roared with laughter, and Finn clapped Kaname on the shoulder. "You have a way with words, indeed!"

"And a way with men, too," Miles chimed in. Kaname and Keith were still looking into each other's eyes, barely inches apart. Kaname leaned in, closer, closer – until Keith leapt back with a yelp, shoving Kaname away.

"Oi! You save 'at fer yer own boys now, I'mma God-fearin', women-lovin' man!"

Whatever had transpired had happened so fast that none of the other sailors caught it, but the sight of Keith waving his arms at Kaname, as though trying to shoo off a bird, had them chuckling despite their weariness.

And so the sailors took the "new 'un" in, accepted him like an old friend, for Kaname was charming and charismatic, livening up meals and work. That he had made a bet against all of them only made it more interesting, and they watched to see how he would garner Captain Kiryuu's good graces.

Kaname's first interaction with his captain happened sometime during the first week of their voyage. Beak looked up from the sail he was reefing, and eyed Miles, who was eyeing Kaname, who was eyeing Captain Kiriyuu, who was eyeing Keith as he monkeyed in the topgallant sail, who was eyeing the horizon in anticipation of a storm.

It was, he though with a surly shake of his head, a chain of fools looking at fools. But Captain Kiriyuu suddenly swung around, and before Kaname could drop his eyes, their gazes met.

"Kuran," the captain said, after a short pause. "Come to my cabin after your shift."

"Aye, capt'n," Kaname answered, his head lowered respectfully. Beak and Miles exchanged glances, amused by this uncharacteristically demure response – despite being the youngest, or perhaps because of it, Kaname had never yet backed down from a spat with any of the older men, always giving as good as he got. Gad said Kaname was an onion – well used, it would flavour many dishes, but cut it up and you'd get frustrated tears for your trouble.

Well, tears or not, when Kaname washed himself before presenting himself to the Captain, the other sailors clustered around a distance away, wanting to eavesdrop but not wishing to arouse suspicion.

"Get going, you lot! Don't be standing round gawking like jacks at a fair!"

The sailors waved cheerfully and ignored Kaname's alarmed exclamation, making crude and suggestive gestures. Kaname groaned softly, anticipating the endless ribbing that would come later. Brandishing two lily white fists in an attempt to disperse them, and seeing that they only nudged each other and chuckled, he gave up and turned away.

Kaname stepped cautiously into the captain's cabin. It was a world apart from the rough and crude quarters of the men, extending the full width of the ship. The walls were richly panelled, hung with pretty pastoral prints. At the back wall, the stern of the ship, there was a row of windows, below which stood a stuffed sofa. To one side was a desk with neatly stacked charts and nautical instruments. There were many other pieces of furniture besides, and had it not been for the creak and groan of timbers and the steady slow rock of the ship, Kaname would have forgotten he was at sea.

"Kaname Kuran, isn't it?" Captain Kiryuu was seated behind his table, dressed in a fine coat over a white satin shirt. Kaname walked to the desk, standing in front of it.

"Aye, sir."

"How have your first days been?"

"Very good, sir."

"No problems, fights with any of the men?"

"We...get along fine, sir." Kaname Kuran stood with his head bowed, spoke in a low, quiet voice. He was every bit an image of tameness, a sharp contrast to his normal flamboyant self.

Captain Kiryuu was not fooled by this pious act.

"Look at me, Kuran."

Kaname raised his eyes to meet Captain Kiryuu's, and for the first time, looked into brilliant amenthyst orbs beneath long silver lashes.

"I do not know you that well, but I am not blind. I have seen you delight the men with your words and captivate them with your actions, but I have also watched you challenge them with fists and fights."

His voice was hard, but clear and pleasant, like a church bell on Sunday mornings, not yet riddled with age and cynicism. Beneath the high starched collar, his neck was a smooth, sculptured column, his skin white and taut; his cheekbones were fair but defined.

"My record is clean, captain," Kaname protested, and the captain's eyes narrowed. _Such a prized silver shark!_

"Be that as it may, I do not care. Every man starts fresh on the Seamaster, and from thence none get neither chance nor change – so see that you behave accordingly."

"Aye, sir..."

"Let me ask you a riddle, Kaname Kuran.

_"_There were once four men; they were fighting over a maiden, and thus decided to have a fight in which the winner would claim her hand. Each man was given a random item to aid them during the fight : the first had a long coil of rope, the second had a staff, the third had a book and the last had an empty sack. Imagine you were at that place – who would you have expected the win the fight?"

It was a simple question, meant for simple shipmen. Kaname tilted his head as he thought long and hard about it; Captain Kiryuu steepled his fingers and waited for the answer in silence.

When Kaname replied, he had the pleasure of seeing Captain Kiryuu nod in satisfaction.

"May I ask you something, Captain?"

Silver eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Captain Kiryuu nodded curiously.

"Have you ever speared yourself a shark?"

There was a shocked silence after Kaname's question. There was, the captain decided, something extremely unsettling about this man's choice of words.

"Yes," he answered, watching for Kaname's reaction. He did not expect Kaname's lip's to twitch suddenly, nor did he expect his hand to pass over his mouth – as though hiding a quick smile. He wanted to ask the same of Kaname, but decided it was below his station.

"Thank you." And, understanding himself to be dismissed, Kaname nodded and backed out of the cabin.

He entered the mess hall with a swagger in his steps and a swing in his shoulders, and the sailors hailed him with excited questions. In answer, he spun a brazen song.

"_I took a gamble on the sea, the sea, _

_To see if I could woo a pretty lass or three, or three,_

_But onboard I saw a lad and he, and he - _

_He was the perfect one for me, for me!_

"_One night, so fine, I took his hand, his hand, _

_And asked him if he'd like a gold and silver band,_

_He smiled at me and said, so sly – "_

Kaname took his seat between Finn and Keith, enjoying their impatience as they waited for the last line of his song.

He waited till Gad served up a large portion of salted beef, then finished :

" – _He said to me, so soft and sly –_

"_Instead of a gold and silver band_

_I'd prefer to touch your magic wand!"'_

The ship fairly rocked as the sailors guffawed at the obnoxious lyrics. Beak pounded the table, spraying soggy bits of half-chewed bread left and right as he hooted. Finn doubled up chuckling, and Miles and Keith were in hysterics over the last two words of the song.

"Ah, now this onion sings too... you's shoo nevar count yer crop 'afore it grows," Gad muttered, shaking his head.

"The captain," Kaname declared, "has been utterly beguiled by my charms."

"Tell us!" some sailors cried out, and "another song!" others called for.

On the spot, Kaname's quick mind and agile tongue concocted yet another verse.

"_We dined together, this lad and I_

_On fresh caught trout and black berry pie_

_The eating was good, but my, oh my,_

_My thoughts kept straying to his thigh!_

_And then I saw, so hard and full, _

_Between his legs, that odd little swell_

_And so I said, short, sweet and true;_

_I'd like to ring your golden bell!"_

Almost half the ship away, Captain Kiryuu looked up from his own food as laughter blared again from beyond his door. Rarely were the men so racuous after a hard day's work, and he had no doubt it was because of the new sailor's doing.

"He speaks the truth, as far as I can tell. He has a clean record," Tarren said. He had been told of Kaname's earlier conversation with the captain.

"We'd be wise to keep an eye on him. I heard, he was singin' of magic wands and bells and the like - sounds an awful lot like witchcraft," Hern muttered the last part, not wishing to sound blasphemous.

Captain Kiryuu ignored the second officer, but he mulled over Tarren's words.

"I don't doubt his record, alright. Men like him follow their own laws and have ways of hiding their sins. It's not petty troubles I'm worried about...do you know what he said when I asked him the riddle about the four men fighting for a woman with a random weapon?

Without waiting for an answer, the captain continued.

"Kaname Kuran has one thing most other men don't - situational awareness and adaptability. He always has a plan, and he'll fit it in anywhere, with anyone...and that's what I'll be watching out for."

With that enigmatic response, Captain Kiryuu returned to his supper, but he wasn't tasting Gad's black pepper steak. Rather, two mischievous, gold flecked eyes glittered and danced in his mind, and that odd, taunting question - _"Have you ever speared yourself a shark?"_

* * *

(1) Algae and plankton

Ah! That's done and coming nicely. I'm rather proud that the songs are original, and you can sing them to any tune you want! XD So is the riddle about the treasure and the island - would anybody like to take a guess as to who survives and how/why? I'll reveal the answer in the next chapter, but I'd like to hear some answers anyway!

Reviews make me update faster! Really!!


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the long update! I did try. Seriously!

* * *

Chapter 3

It was common, expected even, that at some point or other in life, one would ingratiate oneself with other, better-off individuals for personal benefit. The skilled curried favour with flair and aplomb, and the inexperienced at least knew to slide their way in cautiously.

Few there were who would purposefully antagonize those whose authority was above theirs, and certainly not aboard a ship, where the rightful place and station were cast in stone; but Kaname, for all his intelligence and charm, as the other seamen observed, was one of these mud-headed clams.

A fortnight into the voyage of the Seamaster, and it was obvious to anyone that Kaname was sinking into Hern's black books like armour into water. None of them actually liked Hern, because the second officer was the son of a rich merchant, and had wormed his way up the naval ladder with neither talent nor effort. He relied on his rank and father's name – and often violence as well – to bully others into subordination.

Kaname made an effort to reign in his fists after Captain Kiriyuu's warning, but it was beyond his nature to tolerate with such mistreatment very long; shorn of physical means, Kaname relied on his other talent to justify himself – verbal abuse.

Hence it came to be that Hern carried out his daily inspections of the men to a litany of vulgar profanities, all uttered by one impudently grinning cad swarming up and over the masts with a pail of tar as black as his obscenities. He had heard of few and understood fewer, but piety and self importance made him feel particularly insulted by these – Kaname was, as it were, "polluting" his surroundings with his filth and commonness.

It was a mark of Kaname's genius that he read and wrote in three languages, spoke in five, and swore fluently in more than ten, excluding Norwegian which he was presently picking up from Finn. The choice phrases he reeled off clanged like sickening carrion calls on Hern's eardrums and were a source of amusement for the men, whose grasps of language were likewise usually limited to the rude and colourful.

"He's blaspheming against all that's good and holy, Captain, its affecting the men and their work negatively – twice I caught Miles rigging the sails wrongly, it's that heathen rogue, distracting them-"

"I will not scold them for language like a school mistress, Henry. The men have a right to their own words, as long as there is nothing against our Lord and good Queen, may she live forever," Captain Kiriyuu snapped over his dinner.

It was one of those hot, muggy seasons come again, with that irrepressible heat that drove men and women to various states of undress. Even night brought little respite, for the ocean releases stored heat after sunset. The captain was contemplating removing his necktie and long sleeved shirt, not to mention the calf length boots that squelched with sweat and moisture whenever he stepped in them.

The weather was bad for his composure, and worse still for the discipline of the sailors. Having hit windless waters for more than three days, tempers were running high, and trouble had swung by just that morning, a petty spat amongst the cook and the "heathen rogue".

A clamour had roused him from his work before noon, and he had gone on deck to see the men gathered in a circle around three others; Finn, Kaname, and Gad.

Gad was one of the Seamaster's oldest members. He had always been slow, rough but kind, bit of a trumpet but with more wisdom than most. Men hailed his formidable stench because it ensured their eating well, and more often than not he was the butt of many a joke that he accepted good naturedly.

Captain Kiriyuu had known Finn for a long time, too. Men named him the golden kraken - for his long hair, now a thick wheat braid that hung past his waist; for those powerful limbs that were longer than mortals should have a right to. Sailors whispered that the Norseman had kraken blood, and that occasionally, he would leap into the sea and couple with the merpeople and their krakens. "Only once in a blue moon, mind ye." Like his namesake, Finn commanded a healthy measure of fear and respect on ship, and his presence was essential in keeping the men in line.

Kaname was another matter altogether. He reminded Captain Kiriyuu of a mustang who would skip up daintily for a lump of sugar and then bite the hand that fed it – for fun.

Consequently, he was not very surprised to find that Finn was standing with his legs planted apart, holding Kaname in one hand and dangling the shorter Gad in another. Kaname's teeth were bared, his fists were clenched, and Gad's nose was bleeding badly.

"_Enough, I said_!" Finn roared, shaking Kaname by the scruff of his shirt roughly as the younger flailed wildly about.

The captain gestured to the first officer, and Tarren immediately called for their attention.

A silent pall fell over the men as they parted and looked to him nervously. He waited until he had the attention of Kaname Kuran – Finn released Gad, but held on to Kaname with a disgusted mutter.

Captain Kiriyuu took one look at Kaname's face, and upon seeing those eyes sparking with anger, his lips pressed into a thin smile. His features were so sharp and angular, clean and finely chiselled like a nobleman's. He could just see Kaname, given the right grooming, with his easy manners and eloquence, as the perfect ladies' gentleman. Right now, though, his long hair hung in lazy, shiny waves, giving off the scent of a ship's refuse; he was dripping with sea water and strewn with seaweed.

On anyone else, it would give the appalling visage of a terrier half drowned in sludge. Kaname, however, somehow managed to pull it off with an inexplicable air of elegant, if scruffy, resentfulness.

"Time and tide wait for no man! Off to your work with you!" Tarren growled, and the spectators dispersed.

"Well?" Captain Kiriyuu said. Anyone could roar and threaten men into obedience, but the seamaster's captain refused to run his ship on antipathy. He leant on the railing, spreading his arms on the banister and looked at them with a slight tilt of his chin. Purple eyes glinting in the sunlight coolly awaited their response. Gad finally burst into a sullen complaint.

"Tha' stug ub jackal spawd loogs dowd od the likes o' me ad' by kind, cap'n. Themb all gave hib too buch approval, 'ad id's all gone to 'is head. He bid idsultin' be place ad' professiod, sir, whad wid dirdying up the cook area wid all dad rod, gibbe extra work' and thinks he aid't pleased with his meals. A toody he drags in, sir. A whole bloody toody, a six food bess of blood and scales! As ib I were a midwife! I dold hib so, and he hids be here - " Gad motioned toward his nose.

The captain was a veteran of embellishments and heartfelt accusations, sailors being passionate, if slightly ridiculous beings; but this was one of the more insensible stories, rendered almost nonsensical by the exaggerated nose injury.

"A tunny, you say?"

"A toody, sir, yes."

"I see. He brought a fish into the kitchen and you lost your temper. And are you so idle as to sit around fishing, Kuran?"

And so on. Hern stuck onto his heels like a rotten peel to one's shoe sole, eager to give the men a hiding. The captain, however, had other ideas.

"Very well. Gad, return to your normal duties, but let Kuran have the privilege of managing tonight's meal, and we'll see if he can't do better. Kuran, seeing as how to deem your normal job unworthy of wholehearted attention, I expect a satisfactory meal of this prized tunny tonight, otherwise you can take lessons as the cook's scullery maid in addition to your sailor's duty."

It was impressive, the way he established order with a few sentences. He was quite sure Kaname lacked any basic culinary skill, and by letting him take charge of supper, it implied displeasure or at least dissatisfaction with his cook, hence it was a rebuke to Gad. At the same time, saddling Kaname with the burden of butchering and making edible a giant animal whose thrashing could still be heard beneath the deck, could allow Gad a measure of vengeance and superiority. The bonus, of course, was Kaname's disbelieving snort, which became a cough when he realised his captain was serious.

A sail snapped mockingly in the shocked silence that prevailed, and Captain Kiriyuu had the satisfaction of pivoting on his heel and striding away from the two seamen. Once in his cabin, he dropped his impassive mien and chuckled. Hern was displeased by this lackadaisal punishment, and warned his captain in dire tones that the lowlife miscreant would find a way to do the men harm in his cooking.

If only the captain and his officers knew that at that very moment, when Kaname should have been sweating in the heat of of the kitchens and labouring over the fish, he was lazing in his hammock and regailing his fellow seamen with his exploits in (and out) of the sheets.

How Kuran had managed it, he didn't want to know, but the fish had been brought to his table at sunset, sizzling in its fats and still smoky from the oven. The top was glazed with honey and lime, and Captain Kiriyuu suspected that the bottom of it was burnt. The flesh was tasty enough, however, with a pleasant springy texture and a salty sea scent. It was sent up with spiced vegetables and a strong wine. All in all, one of his better meals on board.

"Captain," Tarren's voice proceeded a knock. "Kuran's here, says he has - dessert." The last word was said with a touch of confusion.

_Dessert? _Since when did one have dessert on board? Captain Kiriyuu raised his brow, pleasantly surprised.

"Send him in with it."

There was a click as Kaname opened the door and came in. Kiriyuu bestowed an approving glance in his direction.

"I must admit, you did put up quite a show here. I am sufficiently impressed with your culinary skills," Captain Kiriyuu commented. He swirled the wine elegantly, and sipped from it.

"Thank you, captain. I'm glad you liked it. It's going to get better, you know."

Kiriyuu looked up, and noticed with narrowed eyes that Kaname was empty handed. He did not miss that last phrase, that debonair whip-snap nuance in his tone that was disrespectful in its flippancy and yet audacious enough to attract.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I'm glad you liked it."

Whatever edge he had gained on Kaname disappeared. He noticed the distinctive lack of sweat and grime on Kaname, and the pale pink skin of his face, with its just-scrubbed-clean rawness. The captain looked at the sailor, then to his empty hands resting on his hips, and back to his eyes alight with a brazen, unshameful desire.

"That was no tunny, it was shark you ate. You wanted a 'satisfactory meal', and in my opinion no meal is satisfacory without dessert. So, well, I'm here with dessert, and I hope you're up for it too, captain."

Captain Zero Kiriyuu's mouth went dry, and the shark he had eaten sprang to life in his belly, coiling and sliding, and sending hot sharp slithers of pain - or was it? - through his every nerve.

* * *

I hope you do like that! I hope Gad's speech was understandable. I rather like him!

Tunny : a large fish, known as mackerel now

Thank you for reading! Reviews DO encourage me to update!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

_"So, well, I'm here with dessert, and I hope you're up for it too, captain."_

Never before had Captain Kiriyuu been driven to hit a man with his own hands, but he was sorely tested now and ill-tested breeding was the only thing keeping physical violence at bay. Kaname had taken a step closer, and another, and yet another, each movement a bold swagger which bated the captain's anger and unease.

He and Kaname had stood close together before, but a Kaname standing at ease with his head lowered respectfully and a soaked Kaname dangling raggedly in Finn's grasp was vastly different from who stood before him now.

Even wearing a roughspun linen shift and a pair of loose breeches, Kaname was tall and imposing. He was also attractive, at least on the outside. The captain was a real man with a real man's needs, but staunch morals were enough to arrest any thoughts of inchastity - when it came to women in whorehouses. The mere thought of coupling with a _man - _

_- Vile. Unspeakable debauchery.- _

Captain Kiriyuu clenched his table as he stood and strode around it till he was chest to chest with Kaname Kuran.

- _An abominable sin. And of course, impossible._

His nostrils flared unconciously as he seized onto the last word. Man and man - he was aware of some of the contemptible deeds of depraved beggars in the streets, but here, in his own cabin of his own ship - never.

"I put you in the kitchens when you should be lashed for creating trouble, and you think to take advantage of my kindness ? You overstep your boundaries, _sailor -_" The captain broke off abruptly as Kaname took another step forward, closing the small distance between them and leant down till their noses were almost brushing, forcing his height advantage.

"It's time you crossed your boundaries too - unchartered waters never called to a craven captain. 'Sides, who'll know? Just send your officers awaaay..." the last word lingered teasingly in the air, in a slow exhaled sing-song syllable that infuriated the captain no end.

Captain Kiriyuu was forced to take a step back to maintain eye contact at a comfortable angle as Kaname continued.

"Your mouth moves wordlessly because my suggestion tempts you. You blush like a maiden because my actions excite you, _Zero." _

Zero jerked angrily when his first name was used, for it suggested a friendship with this - lowborn - who was in no way deserving of his company.

"Do not presume to judge me, Kuran," Zero stated warningly. "I will _not _tolerate the assumption that -"

"That?"

Speechless. Furious.

Kuran tilted his head so that wavy black bangs fell across his eyes, waiting for an answer that Zero had but did not want to give. It was a dangerous game he played, climbing the ladder from labourer to lord, but this arrogant dark eyed beauty was a master at shimmying up a towering mast; what challenge could a rungged ladder give?

"Come to your senses, Kuran, or I'll have Tarren flog you for insubordination."

"I'd much rather you smooth your blankets over, extinguish the candles...and spread your legs for me..."

Zero's eyes bugged in outrage. Never, ever, in his life had he witnessed such insolence, such forthright defiance of authority. It was as though Kaname had just bulled through the threat with stubbornness and sheer stupidity.

The trick to the ascension of anything, Kaname had reasoned, was to keep moving, and never let fear or sense or logic catch up enough to throw you off.

"I do not share in your perverted desires, Kuran!" He growled low enough, but the heat on the back of his neck was more than just due to anger.

Kaname ignored the protest, caught Zero's forearm and encircled his waist with the other arm dragging him inexorably closer, the steel grip to all intents effortless. If Zero lacked the strength to break free, as was probable, then his futile struggling would by no means give him face.

"Are you too taken with me to struggle, Zero?"

They were very close now. Zero's breathing was shallow. He forced himself to reach out with his free hand, brushing the material of Kaname's shirt, first at his shoulder then sliding down over the planes of his chest. Beneath that, he could feel the warmth of Kaname's hard body, the rise and fall of his breath.

Minutely, Kaname's grip on his wrist loosened.

In an economy of motion a blademaster would have applauded, a knife was between them, deadly steel level with Kaname's neck.

"How dare you," Zero said, steadily.

Kaname's unwavering gaze held his own over the line of the blade; if anything, the additional danger only seemed to fuel his arousal.

"The men said you were upright and righteous, captain," he breathed, feeling the steel grate against his adam's apple. "But now I find that this prized silver shark has tricks and teeth aplenty. Someone told me you had no love for whores, but now I see that you have no need of them...You make a man hard without even trying."

Somewhere along the course of this...meal, Kaname had gone from playful to frightening.

"Will you undress for me, _Zero_?" Kaname asked playfully. Zero jerked again, forcing a hiss, when he heard his name.

"You - "

"I can call you lord and captain if it please you," Kaname murmured with a sly smile, sliding one hand down his laces. He knelt, slowly, rubbing his chin against Zero's abdomen - over the slowly forming bulge.

Damn the persistent scoundrel!

"Tarren!" Zero snarled for his officer. There was no answer for awhile, and a flicker of panic passed through the captain's eyes.

Then –

"You called, captain?"

Zero opened his mouth automatically, but Kaname whispered softly before he could speak.

"Captain, tell your boys you'll need awhile. I want to see what you can do."

The last sentence sent a current of flame from his neck to his spine and out to his limbs, a warm rush of reckless energy that ate away at resolve and sanity.

Long ago, Kaname had figured out a startlingly simple fact that others just refused to acknowledge – that men were merely beasts with a greater amount of control. They all had the same basics needs and _wants -_ they just needed a simple push in that direction.

"I wish to be left alone for the rest of tonight. Ensure that none of the men are slacking off – I will entertain no intrusions till I rise tomorrow. See to it." A part of Zero could not believe the words that were rolling easily off his tongue, yet from Kaname's sleek unmoving grin inches from his lips, it could only be himself speaking.

* * *

Years later, far from the rolling seas and drinking Europe's finest vintage, Zero would find his tongue loosened by alchohol and he would tell the secret story of his lover aboard the Seamaster. He was a sea captain of the orient, half a pirate, half a sailor, a hard and erotic lover who captained the sea of desire with a deranged grin and fingers of velvet. He would be tall, with black hair to the shoulders and a scar that ran across his back from his right shoulder to the left side of his lower back.

"I told him no, I did everything I could to refuse him," Zero would say. "That scar on his back, I _gave _it to him, I wanted to teach him the meaning of no, so I had him whipped in front of his men, for...disobedience. But still he came back. A hundred times I told him no, and a hundred and one times he said yes," Zero would continue, "till finally I was saying yes as well...he was not a man to be denied."

* * *

That was how Zero would speak of it. But the way Kaname described it, the lone glorified storyteller posturing amongst his admiring seamen and subsequent 'conquests', nobody would guess they were speaking of the same night.

"Ever touched a shark? Skin smooth as summer silk one way and sharp as splintered wood the other, Captain Kiriyuu was just like that. Stroke him the right way, you'd get a fine night - but a single nudge in the wrong direction - " here Kaname flicked his hand as though holding a whip, and mimicked the sound of cracking leather. "-Smoking turtles, but that was the sweetest pain I ever felt, ( 'save for your bites and scratches,' he'd whisper to an exceptionally comely lass or lad, 'ain't nobody good enough to match those -') and I've still got the scars, look at this monster here!" And he'd turn around to show off the long snaking mark of the whip across his back.

And then, depending of the people he'd be around, the version of the story would alter, with dirtier details for the men.

"I call him the silver shark, because of his silver hair. Well, my boys, it wasn't only the hair on his head that was silver! I swore I could taste metal when I sucked him off!" Kaname claimed.

Amidst the pounding of tables and the roaring laughter, they would slap each other on the shoulder and shake their heads at the absurdity of it.

"Ya got rich off that deed, dincha? That bet amongst the other men?" A sailor asked "How many pounds o' silver, eh?"

"Yeh shoulda cut off his hair and melted it down for money, then! And I mean _all _his hair!" someone else would call out, and the laughter would swell over the men again, vibrating against the walls of the ship or the tavern.

"Yeah! Tied him tight, face up, spread out like-"

"- Like grease over a steak!"

"Piping hot grease over a sizzling steak with its juices running red and raw!"

"My lads, you don't know the meaning of red and raw with this silver shark! When I squeezed him, his juices weren't just raw, they were silver as well! I got rich off my captain, and not just from the wages of my fellow men!" declared Kaname, adding feather after feather into his hat of innuendos.

"When I left, the whole cabin smelt so strongly of a whorehouse, the men were hard just walking past it! What's the smell of the Seamaster's whorehouse, lads?"

"_Silver!" _the men would bellow back, and crash their ale kegs together in a manly comradeship.

If they were young females with a heart out for romance and gallant lovers, the details would change to suit them just so.

"The son of a highborn lord, with eyes like the sea corals and hair like sunlight off the clouds," he'd say with a soft sigh, parting his lips as though in remembrance. The girls would swoon or giggle, and Kaname would fuel their overactive imaginations with flair and aplomb. "He had skin that never darkened in the sun, and many a day I remember seeing him standing proudly aboard the Seamaster, tall as a prince of spring."

"I was only a poor sailor then, with nothing except the clothes on my back, and he was a lord's son. I knew I could never court him with jewels and swords, but I did the best I could. I'd find colourful seashells and string them together...I'd polish the rocks bright and carve a wooden box to lay them in. He was betrothed to this maiden, wouldn't you know? But will and effort can overcome promises on word and paper...I waited patiently for what I truly believed in, and I got it at last."

The girls would sigh and flutter their eyelashes, as though hoping he'd court them now.

* * *

The true details of that night remained in the captain's cabin, although one thing was for sure : Kaname had most definitely not waited for what he truly (if ever) believed in.

* * *

A/N : I have resurfaced! - Gasps and breaks through the water surface - I've actually run out of ideas for hot steamy scenes, and I don't like them to reenact the same-old-same-old scenarios I have in my other stories...I wrote this story with the intention of making it rather different. Unless you guys can give me new ideas or inspire me into writing R rated stuff, I'll continue with the plot! Xp So there's a challenge for you! I'm sorry the updates are taking so long! And thank you for all your support and reviews so far, I am SO appreciative of the support!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

"I was betrothed to this girl, wouldn't you know,"ff Zero hissed as he gripped Kaname by his upper arms tightly, knuckles standing out against his skin. "I was betrothed to Yuuki Cross, a highborn maiden with hair like wild honey and eyes of oak...She had a voice like a fountain, and her laughter rang like a songbird's – I was betrothed to her!"

Zero's amethyst eyes glittered in the few candles that lit his cabin. The ship rocked gently on a rolling swell, and the two men swayed accordingly to keep their balance. Kaname kept silent, staring intently into the twin purple mirrors. "I loved her since I was ten and she seven, but she never gave me a second glance. Twelve years I kept my feelings to myself, thinking that patience and devotion would always outlast a child's dislike. I crewed and then captained the Seamaster, to distinguish myself as an honourable servant of the Crown, and to win her father's approval of me."

His fingers tightened further; Kaname's arms were on the verge of losing sensation, yet he made no sound of protest. They stood chest to chest like hugging lovers, and desire was telling him to claim his prize, _now_; on the other hand, instinct was nagging at him like a toothless grandmother, admonishing him to _wait and listen. _

"Twelve years passed by without mishap, and once or twice Yuuki even chanced to glance my way. I rose in her father's favour, and I – I kept myself – worthy of her. Every single time we docked was torture for me – I waited for her, you understand! I have never – "

Zero broke away suddenly, and struck Kaname full in the mouth. He was still holding his knife, and it hit Kaname hilt first, splitting his lip to the jaw and giving him a mouthful of blood.

"I have refused –" he swung the knife wildly, and tried to club Kaname across the head. Kaname backed away, ducking, and the blow whistled past harmlessly.

"-every single woman-" Zero swiped at him again, and Kaname grabbed a metal candlestick with which he used to parry the blow. Steel clanged against gold, denting it badly, and Zero grunted with surprise as his knife ricocheted off. Then Kaname spun him around and toppled him to the bed, tangling their legs together. He forced Zero's hand upwards, twisting it so that the knife fell from stiff fingers, and kissed Zero full on the lips.

Something that had been bound and bolted within Zero's consciousness battered its way to the fore.

Zero stiffened in shock, then tugged away from the kiss and spat out a mouthful of blood to one side.

"You – you! Her father would never tolerate this – my father – I have waited twelve years – I was betrothed – I have been faithful –"

Kaname ripped his shirt off, kneaded his heaving chest with one hand. He was still grinning through the broken lip, a wild bloody grin that excited Zero unreasonably.

"I could leave you to wait another twelve years without women," Kaname offered with a feigned sanctimony, "or I could be every single woman you didn't have for twelve years...just name them, captain..."

Zero's eyes rolled up wildly and he wrapped a leg, then the second, around Kaname's waist tightly, hooking them over and pulling their torsos tight.

_That's half your silver to me, lads, _Kaname thought, unaccountably inflamed by the thought. _I've got the silver shark now...hook, line and sinker!_

"There's this inn, at Crackhall Port – " Zero gasped, as Kaname touched his lips to his throat; he felt blood rush to the area, lighting every nerve like a flame to fuel. He clawed Kaname's smooth back, remembering the girl he had seen at there.

"Three maidens with skin like fresh butter and auburn curls? Darling Rendi, daughter of Crackhall's innkeep, and her two younger sisters, Lanna and Brela. The Kittens of Crackhall, they're called. They were lionesses in bed, though, that's the truth of it. I shared the nights with all three of them together, and the lusty ladies fought over me like cats over their kill, and I woke every morning as with scars and bruises aplenty. It was a sweet, intoxicating pain," Kaname whispered with relish. "No, not like that. She was stronger – harder, yes..." he inhaled sharply as Zero dug his nails in and tore his skin with a brutal swipe. There was a warm, sticky blooming on his back, and Kaname growled in pleasure.

"Heard of the King's Castle – " Zero began.

"At Kent? Aye, they're famous for their buxom women. I took two maidens' heads, but I never paid for 'em – ha! The landlady was so mad she chased me out of bed with a broomstick and a skillet...I had to run across the street without my clothes, but when I dived into a clump of bushes she followed me straight in. She didn't allow me back in to get my clothes till she was...satisfied, as it were. It was a payment that benefitted both of us!" Kaname chuckled at the memory, and the quick movement made his chest vibrate against Zero's. He felt his captain stiffening in several places at the friction, and laughed even more.

The temperature in the cabin rose perceptibly, and the rocking sea bucked just enough so that they tensed their muscles to stay balanced; each simple contraction heightened their sensitivity to each other.

"Arckenson – "

"I know the ladies of every port in every town, captain. Mistress Miley and her dark haired ladies at Arckenson are no different. Black beauties, all of them... there was one, tall as a spear and with hair as short as yours, with skin the colour of oiled teak... she was my favourite. Lean as a snake and twice as strong... she'd dusted her skin with spices and scents, so strong and fragrant I can still remember their smells. I got a mouthful of saccharine sweet syrup when I kissed lips, and the piquant tang of salt and vinegar on her breasts ... at her thighs I got a dousing of fiery pepper, so by the time I reached her sex my eyes were tearing and my nose was running...her name was Rhae, and she was...so...enticing..."

"More," Zero begged, twisting Kaname's hair in his hands. What, more touching? More kissing, more exotic stories? What? Kaname didn't know, so he gave him both. His hands and mouth worked at the same time.

"Once I had neither food nor coin, so by day I worked as a farmer's hand for dinner and a bed in the barn. He had this daughter, though, seven-and-ten and cheerful as a sparrow, with freckles and teeth like a horse. She was strong as one, too, having spent her life helping her father till the soil. She pretended she was virtuous and steadfast, as all well trained girls do – but I saw the looks she gave me as I worked the fields by day and roughed around with the other farmboys by night. I outfought all the village lads at the autumn festival, and that night, she looked for me in the barn, and we rode out on her father's best horses. I rode bareback, just to show her I could, but she'd known my mount for years – one word, and he reared like a mustang. I fell off – into a muddy ditch! – She splashed in after me, of course. By the time we returned, her horse was still saddled, but she was the one bareback!"

There was a clacking, hacking sound, and Kaname realised Zero was trying to laugh and gasp at the same time. The silver haired captain's mouth was curving upward and gaping alternately, drunken mirth in his eyes.

"I – don't – believe you!" Zero gasped, then he started chortling. "Nobody has – so many –"

"So much luck? Ah, but it happens! Benjamin Parr and the Seven Sisters, Darry's Summer Palace, the Red Rose at Greenhorn – name any woman you turned away from, and I'll be able to more than make up for it," he said boastfully.

Zero, whose blows had already been turned to kisses and clothes to rags by Kaname, shook his head, still sniggering.

"Only a filthy scoundrel like you would have spent your life methodically sleeping your way through the women of Europe," he sneered, half in wonder, half incredulous.

"I've _slept_ my way through the pretty ones, Europe and Arabia and the Orient makes no difference. Every now and then a new lass flowers, and off I troop to pluck it from its stem. Otherwise, though, I'm now moving onto captains. Much more interesting," said Kaname off-handedly. "I heard from the whores that ships' captains become as wild and unpredictable as the seas they sail, and their masts are hard and long as that of the ship."

Zero raised a hand to slap him again, stunned by such temerity, but Kaname caught it and kissed his knuckles. The captain made a feeble attempt to wrench his hand away, but Kaname was talking again. His voice was low, like honey poured over thunder, and every husky whisper fluted and hummed hypnotically.

"Shall I tell you which women you'd love the most? I've followed the Seamaster's voyages for two years, hoping to meet their famous Silver Shark. This time last year, you made port at Nordheim, where brothels are banned. You would have been approached by Sister Emelia, a tall, handsome woman dressed in conservative colours. She would have invited you to her house for a meal and company, and after that you'd realise that her maids were uncommonly bold and attractive. For a prize, you could have as many of them as you want, but you would have wanted Emelia herself, having engaged in sharp and witty conversation with her. She would be so much like you, stark and austere in manner, which would pique your curiosity further. Your eyes would have drifted over the tightly bound up hair at the base of her shapely neck, lingered over the fitting silks drawn over her round breasts, darted now and again to the outline of her shapely legs on her dress. Aye, my lord?"

And so on, into the night and throughout their trysts, Kaname would talk to Zero and tempt him with various scenarios where his conviction might have faltered. By the time they were done, Zero lay in his arms, amazed and in utter disbelief at what had just transpired.

Where had his resolve gone? All his years of preparation and hard work, made useless by this one night...and the strangest thing was, he could find nothing in him that was regret. He couldn't even remember Yuuki's face now.

His body screamed at him to sleep, to rest, and Kaname had already drifted off. The makeshift chef had an amazing memory, for he had named every woman and described her correctly, reminding Zero of the nights where he went to sleep dreaming of knowing them, just that once.

"How many captains?" He asked Kaname softly. The man grunted in irritation, but mumbled a reply.

"Iron comes before silver, bronze before iron, stone before bronze," he muttered, sounding like Zero's old teacher of alchemy. He was obviously not any low born sailor, though other than his ridiculous adventures in and out of bed, Zero had failed to glean anything about his past.

_Bronze, Iron and Stone, _Zero thought, and suddenly he chuckled when he realized which captains Kaname was talking about. They were sworn brothers, all three of them, and each took an unnerving likeness after his namesake.

"Good captains, all of them, but withered and unimpressive where it matters," Kaname said, rousing slightly at Zero's quiet laughter. "I stayed long enough to make sure it wasn't worth my time. By morning they were too stiff and sore to rise and I was no more contented than before." There was a note of contempt in the complaint, but Zero only laughed louder.

"Why, but they must have close to twenty years on you!"

"Boys twenty years younger than I would have had more skill and experience," Kaname said doggedly. "In any case, they most definitely were not up to my expectations. That's the last time I go for statues of dead rock. Between you and me, they were hung as small as a bat in a cave – dry, snarky and insignificant. Give me a living, breathing, fighting shark any time," he added, turning to Zero and flashing his pearly white teeth in a grin.

"You ... did well," Zero allowed, remembering. Nobody had told him clothes could be worn in such a way, bodies arched to such a degree, limbs stiffened and stretched to such a sweet agony. Kaname hadn't told him, either. He had shown him.

"I 'did well'? Any fool could tell from the blood around your mouth that the silver shark had a splendid feast tonight. I did more than well," Kaname demurred sleepily.

"A modest man would have said 'the breeze was good' or 'my captain is too kind'," Zero said, knowing that any attempts to temper his pride was futile. Sure enough, Kaname replied without missing a beat;

"Your windows are closed and my captain is as kind as I am inept." And suddenly Kaname was on his feet, pulling on his left boot while hopping around on his right and attempting to locate his breeches.

"Pardons, captain, but my watch starts –" Just like that, a stumble through the door and a happy hoot and Zero was left alone with his ripped shirts and stained linens.

Zero fell back on his cushions with an odd feeling within him, and his first conversation with Kaname surged unbidden to his mind.

_"Let me ask you a riddle, Kuran. _

_"There were once four men; they were fighting over a maiden, and thus decided to have a fight in which the winner would claim her hand. Each man was given a random item to aid them during the fight : the first had a long coil of rope, the second had a staff, the third had a book and the last had an empty sack. Imagine you were at that place – who would you have expected the win the fight?"_

_Zero had expected an answer perhaps pinpointing the one of the men as the winner, probably the one with the staff. _

_"I would have expected the man with the sack to win the fight. It would have been simple to fill it with sand and then blind the other men by flinging sand in their eyes," Kaname had finally said. _

_Zero nodded, surprised but pleased._

_"But then, he wouldn't have won the girl."_

_Zero looked up._

_"I mean, which girl likes a man who wins by such low methods?"_

_He remembered marvelling that Kaname had more than just fluff between his ears – unlike most of his men. He said so, and Kaname retorted that "big brains didn't help no one nothing when girls were involved if other organs were small."_

The point being, that Kaname thought of the context outside the given question in the riddle. Like the way he went after the captains in order of their 'element', by stone and bronze and iron then silver. What was the significance of that? For awhile, Zero thought idly about who would befit the title of 'gold', and decided he didn't want to know.

Tarren's voice called out for the men from outside, harrying them from sleep. It was dawn and the sun was a sliver above the horizon, rinsing the ocean free of its darkness. Zero wanted nothing more than to fall back into bed for a good rest, but the linens were blood stained, soiled and smelt of something he didn't want anyone else to smell. Throwing them down the chute to join the rest of the garbage would only choke up the pipes. He debated tossing them out the window and getting Gad to make up his bed with fresh ones; the cooked never asked too many questions.

Clothes were a bigger problem, though. His shirt was torn, and his pants were in a sticky mess... Zero shook out everything and laid them neatly onto a chair for consideration.

For some reason, his underpants were missing. He had a hazy suspicion that Kuran had slipped them off and flung them somewhere out of his sight. If so, he could look for it some other time. Zero turned his mind to another thing - the countless scratches, bruises and other marks on his neck, back and his chest. By Poseidon, that man was a walking, talking hazard...

* * *

Down below in the kitchens, Kaname sauntered up to Beak and clapped him on the back. "Half your silver's gone, mate," he said with a grin. He dropped something soft into his hands. "Catcha later! And show that to the boys for me," Kaname called as he moved away to start his working shift.

Beak looked down, and was considerably startled to see that Kaname Kuran had presented him, of all things, with a pair of silken, maroon coloured, drawstring underpants. The kind that the rich men wore...

**"- Half of fift'n pounds silver sez yeh can't bed the captain – in his own cabin – before we make ashore in Torido. If yer as good as yer make out to be, take it!"**

Beak thought back onto the bet, and he swore loudly, shaking his head in admiration.

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A/N : I've gotta get back to the sailors! Zero is too stiff and uptight for humour! I hope this chapter wasn't a "bore", as far as things go...my creative juices are running dry... Do leave a review though, that's always an antidote to a writer's block! Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N : Yes, I've been dead and off the face of fanfiction world for almost a year...I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry! I can only hope this chapter makes up for it!**

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That poxy spawn of a jackal," Miles swore bitterly one evening, sitting down for dinner. "Made me go over whole hull, twice, just because I snorted when he tripped over the line and broke his lip. He struts with that conk(1) in the air, fell over the rope, messed up my reading, and punished me for it!"

Keith thumped his mate's shoulder in sympathy, quaffing water from his mug.

"Kuran got it worse, though," Miles said, lowering his voice. The mentioned person climbed through the doorway at the moment, and met six pairs of curious eyes with his own dark ones.

"_What," _he snapped, and three pairs of eyes darted back to their food nervously; Finn, Beak and Gad continued to observe him. Irritation and annoyance radiated off the youngest sailor in almost tangible waves. His hair was tangled and sweaty, standing on end like he had just pulled at it in frustration; his eyebrows, nose and lips converged in the centre of his face in an exceptionally foul scowl, and, quite obviously, they could expect no cheerful banter from him tonight.

"What's up with you and the scumbag?" Finn ventured to ask.

Kaname shoved a piece of meat into his mouth and chewed ferociously. He seized a piece of the dense, doughy bread that made a sailor's staple and squeezed it, hard, until his fingerprints were outlined in the bread.

"Yaz outta choo prop'ly, now, en't do nabody good ter chock on tha," Gad advised bravely. He was the oldest besides Beak, and had weathered enough hot blooded younglings throwing a tantrum. Treat 'em nice and reasonable, the way you'd do a spooked horse. "An' don' do yeh jistice ter pout like a scullery maid, neider."

Kaname's eyes sparked, and five chairs scraped back apprehensively when he gripped the table, making to turn it over.

"Easy there, boy!" Miles cried. "I got worse than yer – we all got it bad before –"

"Anthony Henry Cloyd, known also as Hern our beloved officer, was penning a letter to his father, the esteemed William Henry Cloyd. I was called to attend to his "scribing needs". So I spent most my watch sharpening his quills, cleaning his seal, serving him drink and nourishment, adjusting blinds to admit optimal light, aligning his chair just so – like some sort of – _scullery maid, _indeed!" the rant became a roar. Kaname's fists were clenched, and he was inhaling slowly through his nose, as though trying to calm himself. "I was treated to two hours of _the great exploits and successes of the male Cloyds, _and was explained the reasonings behind my evident lack of ambition and achievement!"

Every syllable was enunciated with a vengeful clarity, sharp and biting and as Kaname's and Miles' bitter countenances. The men grimaced as one; it was "easy work" compared to the manual work on a ship, but to be forced into a woman's role was a disgrace and a blemish on their name, and none would prefer it over a shipman's honest labour. By demanding Kaname's services, Hern had soiled his honour in one of the most insulting ways possible.

"Well, better ter get it all out, no sense in holdin' tha' in. It's bad for yer mind," Finn remarked.

Since Kaname looked fit to explode should he speak again, Miles "volunteered" first.

"A thousand curses on that mangy sea rat – may he never find good company and may he ever have boils on his ass!"

"Amen," Keith muttered for good measure.

"I'll haunt him in his afterlife," Kaname swore, so upset he didn't even say anything colourful.

"He's one rabid scoundrel, tha's fer sure. Now yo jez don't leddit git ter ya, tha's a goo' boy..."

Kaname muttered something inaudible, wolfed his food down and left the mess room. The men returned to their meals, conversation lulled to a standstill. Kaname clowned and jested when it suited his moods, but there was something in him that resembled a steel trap – it lay open in the green grass, showing its fangs and glinting. All it took was for a single touch to spring shut the deadly steel jaws.

Because Kaname had to make up for lost work that night, he reefed the sails and manned the helm for seven hours straight. During that time, the men stayed away from him, giving him 'space', as it were, to cool off. Kaname gripped the ship's wheel hard, willing to crush the wooden spokes with his fingers; he took several chunks of scrap wood aloft with him, and threw them out as hard as he could, into the sea. Slowly, his infuriation blew away with the wind, leaving only a dull, throbbing resignation. At dawn, when his fingers felt ready to give way, he staggered into bed exhausted. An hour later, it was his watch again, but his mates let him sleep on.

Hern marched by pompously, eyeing the man, and realized the absence of one black haired sailor's curses; seeing only five people on duty, he seized his chance to attack Kaname again.

"Get Kuran up here!"

Beak shook him awake reluctantly. Kaname slurred a curse, forced his heavy eyelids open and tumbled out of his hammock.

"Master yerself, lad, ya ain't no little dinghy(2) in a storm," Beak muttered. "Gitcha reddy for summat ugly..."

Picking himself up, Kaname climbed out of the forecastle groggily after Beak, and Hern was waiting for him.

The officer struck Kaname brutally across his torso with a belaying pin, and Kaname, still drowsy and off balance, was sent crashing to the floor.

"No lazing in during your duty, no matter that you accomplish the same things asleep as awake! Up and at it!"

Kaname groaned on the deck, trying to get his wind back. He was blinking up at the image of Hern standing over him, but wasn't making much sense out of it. The long bludgeon slammed down on his ribs again.

"Up, I said!"

And got Kaname up with a bellow, slamming into Hern. The officer shouted, Kaname struck his jaw, his stomach, kicked his knees; they were tussling on the floor like animals, cursing and pummelling each other.

Hern was heavier and stronger, but Kaname was faster and evaded the slow punches easily. He dodged left, then right, and slammed Hern's ugly pockmarked head into the deck before huge arms grabbed him by his neck and forcibly hauled him back.

"Quit tha' flailin', boy!" Finn's voice hollered into his ear, tightening his grip on Kaname even as the younger struck out wildly with his elbows and knees. "_Ease up, Kuran!"_

There was the sound of pounding boots as Tarren rushed out, and the other sailors swarmed around, roused by the commotion. Finn held Kaname back while Tarren helped Hern to his feet. Kaname was pleased to see that he had a two black eyes, a bleeding nose, and from the lopsided stance, a bruised kneecap.

"What is the meaning of this!" Captain Kiryuu strode toward them, resplendent in a crimson jacket and grey pants. The sunlight shone in his silver hair and lit up his angry eyes.

"Insubordination, captain – " Hern began.

"Poxy liar!" Kaname cut in.

"_Hold jer tongue!" _Finn hissed, giving his captive a shake.

"That layabout was sleeping on watch!" Hern pointed an accusing finger at Kaname, who spat angrily, but did not deny the truth of it.

Captain Kiriyuu did not care for the spats and fights amongst his men, as long as they did not bring it into their work. However, anything involving their duties on the ship, and it was the Captain's job to deal punishment and establish discipline. Sleeping on watch wasn't uncommon; what was more dangerous was that Kaname, by retaliating against his superior physically and verbally, was dangerously close to violating the boundaries of a ship's hierarchy. The captain did not like to rule his workers with fear, but he letting Kuran scuttle off was akin to destroying the crewmates' respect for their officers and captain.

"Fine. Settle him with thirty lashes."His countenance was cool and forbidding, belying the pounding anger in his blood.

_By the stars, you go too far, Kuran! Thirty lashes for your tongue and insolence – should you get a hundred, that would not be recompense enough for your actions against your officers and I!_

The deeds of that fateful night had come crashing around Captain Kiriyuu's ears only in the morning, the disquieting realization that he'd committed blasphemy, sin, felony – call it what he would, there was no getting around the fact that they, as two men, had made unnatural love in the eyes of God. If any of the crew knew, if it leaked to the authorities...no amount of time would be able to undo the damage. _Damn you to a dozen hells, you scheming wolf!_

"Thirty!" Kaname hissed in disbelief, his eyes flashing in horror. Few punishments ever went above two dozen strikes of the lash, for good reason.

"Forty," Zero conceded, biting his words with a harsh finality. This time, Kaname held his tongue.

Midmorning was greeted with the sight of Kuran strapped to the mast by his wrists, back exposed. Kaname turned his head a little, and out of the corner of his eye saw all fifteen men gathered behind; they ranged in size from the tall, gangling Finn to the hunchbacked, broad limbed Jack to slender captain. No mutual words of encouragement from anyone now – the insolent lad had had it coming all this while.

Rhon, the hefty bosun, picked up the whip and cracked it experimentally. Except for the snap and the eager hiss of leather, there was silence at the first three lashes, then a low, angry snarl when skin and flesh split on the fourth strike. Angry red welts trawled across Kaname's bare back one by one, leaving a ridge of muscle and viscera. The twelfth blow, and Kaname gave an agonized howl reminiscent of a beast. His back was a macabre work of art, the stark crimson blood glistening on the darker lined brick colour of muscle, the yellow skin dangling limply, and the smooth white canvas of his arms and neck untouched by the whip. Kaname's hands clenched and flexed in their restraints, so tightly every muscle in his forearms were clearly defined, and somewhere his knees buckled and his body sagged against the mast.

Some of the men averted their eyes, others muttered amongst themselves. All of them had experienced the same at one point, though the norm was half to a dozen lashes. Once the ship rocked on the waves and dipped its prow into the sea, splashing the men with salty spray. Some must have landed on Kaname's back, because he jerked and cursed when the salt burnt his raw, bleeding flesh; neither Kiriyuu nor the officers batted an eyelid.

Zero Kiriyuu watched the beating with his usual detachment, mentally counting the strokes. He had explained away the heavy punishment – _too heavy, _his conscious told him, _Kuran was penalized for more than just insubordination to Hern; this is his due for that night, the night I lost control_ - with the thought that it was better for him to learn now than continue wrecking havoc on his ship. He had seen many men take the same, although usually less, and some part of him was ashamed for feeling relief – and spite – that Kaname, for all his brazen bravado, was nothing more than a man, with no special invulnerability or tolerance to pain. Seamen were strong and hardy as men came, yet human weakness would reduce them all.

"Done," said Tarren when Zero tallied it up to forty, and Rhon cut Kuran down from the mast. The black haired man collapsed to his elbows and knees, barely supported by shaking arms, breathing raggedly. Sweat ran down his skin and hair, and his wrists were scrapped raw by the ropes. Every muscle in his back was throbbing and hurting like ten million bloody bootlickers, but he had neither the strength nor presence of mind to speak.

For a moment, Kuran turned his head, and met Kiriyu's eyes. Through the slick curtain of his ebony fringe, Kiriyu thought he saw a hint of defiance. No matter; Kuran had not the physical strength to do anything; his head slumped back down, chin almost to his chest.

"Gaol, with water but no food," Captain Kiryuu ordered, his voice sure and aloof as ever, and Rhon dragged Kuran off, with minimal care, to the ship prison. Seeing Kuran short of his usual vim and vivacity reminded the men just how much younger he was, half as broad across the shoulders and almost girlish in build beside the dark, dour Rhon, and it discomforted them quite a bit; they had grown unreasonably fond of his company, if not his disregard for authority.

"Steady, boys, he'da had it comin'...bettar ter learn young, when they still strong," said Finn quietly when they'd dispersed back to their chores, and the men nodded sagely. Listen to the old Kraken, he was the wisest. All the same, meals were quieter and off times less rowdy, less bawdy than before. They'd gotten use to anticipating the random nonsense generating fool for quite awhile now, and although many would have happily throttled Kuran at one time or the other, he had been a merry addition overall.

Beak had a carved wooden flute he was working on; he gave the piece a final twist with his knife, then blew into it – the dismal sound tooted flatly around the hammocks, each slouched with the tired men, and he quickly put it away when Red Eye's red eye glowered in his direction.

"Ya don' needa flute ter do tha', jes honk thru yer own nose," Keith muttered.

Finn had taken to combing his braid out, brushing it, and rebraiding it – then undoing and rebraiding it, over and over. _I'm getting too old for this, _he thought, looking at this hair. The lock of it was as thick as his wrist, but there was more salt and pepper grey than flaxen gold now. Nobody mentioned the bet.

Three days passed, then four, and on the fifth day Captain Kiriyuu wondered whether Kuran was ready to be let out. A normal person's time was measured in day and night, and it took at least a week in the dark, with neither light nor sound to mark the passage of a day, to confuse their perceptions of time; however, with seamen, who's lives revolved around the tolling bell of eight watches a day, three hours a watch, it took less than a week. They were large and heavyset, requiring fuel to maintain their powerful frames, used to the constant presence of many other crewmates; remove both food and friendship for but awhile, coupled with no indication of time, and most would be driven to desperation in a few days. Kiriyuu usually let them out after four days.

Kuran was at his prime, hardier than a boy and stronger than the older men, and Kiriyu extended his imprisonment to a week. Any longer, and the recovery from starvation would take too long to make the punishment worthwhile. On the seventh day, he told Rhon to release Kuran, with the orders to wash and then present himself to the captain's cabin. It was a practice Kiriyuu had developed long ago; invite the man to his quarters after imprisonment, to sit in a chair before his desk. Kiriyuu would then proceed to give him a 'silent treatment' – that is, the captain might look politely enquiring at the wrong doer, glance his way once or twice while doing his paperwork – but otherwise, the sailor would be scratching his head in bewilderment as to why the Sam Holy Hill was he sitting like a guest in his captain's room, breathing the same air and eating the same food, while the captain ignored him and went about his own business.

It might be an odd practice, but Zero had learned, long ago, that if he as a captain used this opportunity to treat each punished sailor as an equal for awhile, it represented an erasing of the sailor's misdeed and allowed him to start anew; it showed that the event was to be past, put behind, and captain and sailor would begin afresh with a clean record. Such forgiveness, spoken not in words but in actions, was something the men appreciated, and their respect for their captain would increase markedly.

Furthermore, Kiriyuu wouldn't allow them the sailor to leave until he had broken the silence to speak – either to burst out in apology or complain about being wronged, or perhaps to demand what the captain wanted, keeping them in his own cabin. It was a time when the sailors were allowed to voice their thoughts and bitterness, and when Kiriyuu would listen, and thus prevent the possibility of resentful mutiny amongst the crewmates.

Above all that, forcing a man to speak first in such a situation was making them give in, making them forfeit the male pride of suffering in silence, something that many sailors, and most especially Kuran, required.

This little session was something every sailor on this ship had gone through, and none of them had left the Seamaster's service after.

Thus, when Kuran knocked and entered on permission, Kiriyu was prepared to see him the very image of contriteness, meek and subdued. What he was not expecting to see was Rhon, red faced and rather flabbergasted, without Kuran.

"Beg pardon, Cap'n, but tha dog says he en't movin from don below till ya goes ta see 'im," Rhon said, when Kiriyu raised an inquiring brow. The captain's brows twisted, puzzled.

"I don't have the time to play his games, man. Bring him by force," he ordered testily.

"Tha's jus it, ah can't...mayhaps someone should come see..." Rhon's flustered demeanour piqued Kiriyu's curiousity greatly. What was Kuran up to now?

Curious, but careful to maintain an annoyed countenance, Kiriyu threaded his way to the gaol with a candle, whereupon the problem presented itself clearly. One of the bars of the cell had come loose; the extra space wasn't enough for a man to slip through, but Kuran had used the bar to jam the lock of the gate from the inside. Unless he himself removed the bar, no amount of strength would open up the gate.

Kiriyu stared at this whimsical fool who had locked himself into jail, nonplussed.

"Well, I agree that two's a party, but three's a crowd...how about you get yourself going, Rhon? That's a good lad, leave us - morning, cap'n," Kuran said, injecting just enough humour in his tone that Kiriyu was well taken aback – firstly, it _was _morning, Kuran had not lost track of the time at all – or was he just lucky? – and secondly, was that scoundrel smiling?

"Glad to see you did come after all...did you miss me?"

Kiriyu wanted to spit at this unpleasant surprise; luckily for him, his upbringing prevented this unseemly show of discomposure. His thoughts whirled around in an eddy, and drew but a blank – he wanted to release Kuran – he'd thought Kuran would _wish _to be released – but Kuran had locked himself inside – if Kiriyu wanted Kuran to be released – there was _work to be done, after all – _would he, the captain, have to _request _that Kuran free himself? – How absurd! – No, imprison him for a while longer – no, but imprisonment clearly had no effect on the hooting incubus! – How? -

"I have no time for your nonsense, Kuran. What farce are you pulling?"

Kiriyu held his candle up and stepped closer, inspecting Kaname. He expected to see a mangy haired, pale cheeked man covered in sweat, dried blood and grime; he was not, much to his chagrin, able to prevent an involuntary twitch when he saw Kuran in a fresh change of clothes, cleaned, combed and very much at ease with his imprisonment.

"Thought I'd make myself presentable, captain, before I invited you down," he said cheerfully, spreading his arms. "Nothing like a good cup of tea to restore the spirits, eh?"

So he'd left the cell, washed, eaten, then went back down to lock himself in and gotten the bosun to invite the captain to jail.

Kiriyu processed the probable possibility that Kuran had suffered brain damage from his whipping. Kuran pursed his lips in a manic grin and huffed quickly.

The candle's flame was extinguished, and, plunged into sudden darkness, Kiriyu gave an unseemly curse and dropped the candle for no reason. In the span of a few seconds when the captain couldn't find the buttons on his shirt, there was a metallic grating, a harsh clanging, the sound of the gate opening and the slither of a man sliding through, and suddenly two strong arms were clamped firmly around him, one hand on his mouth, the other pinning his right arm to his side. He could smell tea leaves and seaweed, the body flush up against his back was hot and demanding -

- not to be outdone, Kiriyuu sidestepped, twisted with speed, withdrew a dirk and slashed downward, hard - there was a strangled hiss as his blade met Kaname's flesh, the smell of blood permeated the hot, humid air.

Too late, he Kiriyuu realized he had been spun around and trapped against the bars of the cell. A powerful hand forced his wrists against the metal bars, and the mouth against his ear was whispering,

"You know, captain, that was a mistake...when you're in the water with the sharks, nothing quite excites them like the scent of blood, hm?"

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1 : Insulting term for nose

2. A small, rather useless and worn down kind of boat

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Review! Comments! Ideas! Too slow? Too long? Too draggy? Cut straight to the down and dirty? Constructive criticism is welcome! And unless you respond, its back to respiration and photosynthesis for me!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N : Forgive me for the months I've left this hanging...I really wanted to make sure this scene was worth it!

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"You know, captain, that was a mistake...when you're in the water with the sharks, nothing quite excites them like the scent of blood, hm?"

Kiriyu growled, twisting desperately against the sailor; he brought one knee hard, managing to hit Kaname's bleeding side, and earned a quick convulsion of pain and surprise; dragging one hand free of Kaname's grip, Zero drew his elbow back as far as he could and smashed his fist forward. Whether Kaname had ducked or Zero's aim had been completely off in the pitch dark, neither knew, because the blow came up empty; in a moment, though, Zero felt a sharp jerk on his neck that nearly broke his spine, and found his remaining captive wrist being tied to a bar of the cell.

Having satisfactorily bound his captain with his own necktie, with one of the many showy trappings of rank, Kaname flattened himself against the wall and stayed as silent as he could. Zero flailed wildly, cursing; when he was met with nothing but silence and darkness, he quietened to a heaving, quivering wrath, straining his ears and eyes in vain. He didn't know which was worse – to suffer the indignity and humiliation of being found tied up by his sailors, or to have Kaname waiting and cackling gleefully in some corner of the gaol out of his reach.

The gaol was small, and the foreign madman (to Zero's mind) was no pixie; if Kaname were to be out of his reach, there was only one corner he could be in. Grimly, Zero set about working his right boot off with his left hand and foot; in a few seconds, he had it dangling on the edge of his right foot, and kicked his leg as hard as he could in the most possible direction of Kaname's hiding place. Success! Evidently the monstrous he-witch was as blind as he, for the boot hit something that was definitely not the wooden hull.

"I know you're there," Zero said, although it was, at the moment, an empty threat that gave the captain meagre comfort. He concentrated on picking the knots around his bound wrist with his left hand's fingers. Sweat had given the once smooth cloth enough friction to make Kiriyu's fingernails hurt; Kaname had made the knot as tight and as fiddly as was physically possible, and Zero only had brute determination and a few clumsy non-dominant-hand appendages to loosen it.

Deprived of food, company and sex, bleeding from Zero's knife wound, and nursing, unexpectedly, his captain's sturdy leather boot print on his chest, Kaname was extremely tempted to snare Zero there and then. Though a peek at the mess hall and a bath had much restored his spirits, a week of loneliness and starvation had left him absolutely bereft and miserable, and he had been conjuring up past memories of warmth and camaraderie to keep himself from desperation.

Of course these included memories of his exploits in and out of bed, and Kaname, as most knew, had a selectively excellent memory for the scandal. "If he comes back for more," Beak had said, meaning Zero had to look for Kaname on his own grounds. No man, Kaname knew, would look for something or someone that sprung up like dreaded cyclones on ship running late. No, people had to lack something before they looked for it. Far be it for Kaname to deny any man pleasure, especially himself, but money was at stake. There were few things Kaname would choose over a roll in the hay; but, money to buy more and better rolls in the hay was one of those things. A man of his own desires, Kaname had made up his mind for the money.

Hence, he waited till he was sure Kiriyu was occupied with his own knots, then slithered forth with as much grace as hunger weakened legs could muster. Unable to see, Kaname was off in his estimate; both were caught unawares when Kaname's outstretched palm pressed itself over Kiriyu's ear. Kiriyu smartly turned his head and bit down hard onto Kaname's fingers. His tied arm left him with little freedom to move, but by jerking and twisting like an eel, Zero caught Kaname's forearm, yanked him close, and when Kaname stumbled into him, found the back of his neck and slammed the sailor forward. There was a satisfying crack as Kaname hit the metal bars forehead first, and Zero pinioned him there with his body.

Despite being shorter and slenderer than his man, Zero straddled Kaname with his legs and held the bars securely. If finding his nose in Kaname's shoulder was somewhat disconcerting, he was aware that a reversal of places would have given Kaname the upper hand. Kiriyu assumed he had the advantage now, and so much the better.

The one thing Kiriyu seemed to have forgotten was that Kuran had a unique ability to think and act the complete scoundrel.

Realizing that his captain's weight was comfortably against the back of his thighs, and noting his polished fingers grasping the bars on either side of his head, Kuran's first thought was that he should have had removed their pants before giving Kiriyu a chance to move. He discarded that thought, but almost immediately recalled it, musing along a tangent. Kiriyu's legs might be clothed, but his forearms certainly weren't. Hm.

Kuran ducked slightly to one side, and before Kiriyu could protest, ran a hot tongue up the inside of his captain's forearm from the elbow to his wrist. There was a shudder and a perceptible intake of breath from somewhere behind his ear, and the wily man chuckled softly. He latched his mouth onto Kiriyu's wrist, putting his tongue onto the vein there. Kiriyu's pulse rate increased noticeably, and Kaname grinned, nibbling the skin there. The inside of one's arm has much more sensitive skin the outside, and Kuran had the pleasure of feeling his muscles tense under his lips as Kiriyu fought against the ticklish but not unpleasant sensation.

"E-enough, Kuran!" Kiriyu demanded, but gone were the days when he could command any form of propriety from this man, gone and forfeited that fateful, fantastic night. Worse, the memory of it rose unbidden, bringing adrenaline to his blood, and blood to his - elsewhere. With his mind nearly distracted and his muscles preoccupied with denying his forearm pleasure, his grip on the bar weakened. Kaname, still held in place by Zero's legs and body, slid one hand behind his back, edged it between their bodies. Kiriyu instinctively pressed himself closer when he felt the intrusion forcing its way in, guessing, at the back of his mind, Kuran's intention.

"Not working, captain," Kuran said, pushing himself back with his other arm and rubbing his hips against his captain's growing lust. Kiriyu's grunt was only half bitten back, and then it was the devil's hand sliding in like a – like a shark, touching, biting him through his pants. Stiffening his palm, Kaname moved it in a tight circle around Kiriyu. He heard hissing, an agonized moan, and he felt the body behind coiling and tensing against his back.

Had there been any light, the scene would have been extremely arousing; a well dressed gentleman with all the touches of wealth and station, down to the golden epaulets on his shoulders, lock-jawed, standing ungracefully wide-legged and holding onto the bars of a dirty prison cell; sexier still was the tall and well built labourer between them, dressed in a simple worker's shift, body pressed into the bars, head tilted back and smirking, with a hand twisted uncomfortably behind him.

"This won't go unpunished, Kuran," Kiriyu whispered. Kaname could feel his hot panting on his shoulder. He tensed his fingers and dragged them downwards, digging his thumb along the ridge of stiffness. The panting became a deep, noisy gasp for air and self control as Zero closed his eyes and swallowed a moan. His head fell forward onto Kaname's shoulder, and Kaname leaned back slightly, putting his mouth by Kiriyu's ear as Zero groaned softly.

"Then whip me again, captain."

Kaname's voice was harsh and erotic, like velvet and thunder, against Zero's ear. Goosebumps leapt up along Zero's skin, not only at the sensation but at his sultry words. Kaname's fingers curled, and this hard against each other, his nails grazed against Kiriyu; unbidden, the silver cried out and pushed himself forward into the grasping fingers. His breathing came in puffs against Kaname's shoulder, wet and ragged.

"I'd much rather you have me whipped by your own hand."

Kaname gripped him hard, squeezing and scratching the flesh there. Zero whimpered as five individual nails, crescents made pinpoints of pain and delight, shot through his nerves like poison. His muscles sagged like ropes and Kaname flashed about; too late, Zero threw his weight forward again, but they were already chest to chest. Whether the buttons had come undone or Kuran just had the hands of a devil, his torso was already exposed.

"But for the forty lashes that you charged me with, captain...those were uncalled for except by your own guilt!"

It was Kaname's turn to clench his jaw, remembering the injustice at his superior's hands. For any man to be pegged down by someone like Hern, knowing that he was better in all but rank, coupled with the anguish of public humiliation, the complete helplessness in front of shipmates that lasted for days later; Kaname was well aware of his own beaten pride. Their physical needs clashed together, and through two layers of fabric, Kiriyu still jumped, unaccustomed and sensitive. The captain had slumped somewhat; he was still straddling Kaname but now had his head buried in Kaname's shoulder, seemingly ashamed for his actions earlier and his weakness now. Sharp, racking gasps burst from his lips and were muffled there.

Kaname unlaced Kiriyu's breeches, sliding his fingers in and prodding him. There was an odd keening noise at his shoulder as the hips against his bucked forward.

"You left me with no choice!" came Zero's voice, strained to hoarseness and tight with something between remorse and desperation. The agitation he had suppressed for more than a week coiled and wound in his chest, trying to give voice to the fear he had felt, the horror and self loathing that had come crashing around his ears – for it was _he _who had sent his officers away, it was he who had capitulated to the primal drive that had been stifled for decades – and his inability to reason his way out of blasphemy and sacrilegious facts. Struggling to piece together the remains of his morality, Hern's hatred for Kuran suddenly became a scapegoat when their squabbles got out of line. _Yes, this sinful man, this heathen unconverted vagabond, it was he who planned for my downfall – _and all the relief of abnegation had gone into doling out this wrongdoer's discipline. "I had no choice!"

Kaname was silent. Feeling wretched, because Zero was nothing if not an upright man, he admitted, "By Heaven, no, we always have a choice...you were right...those were my transgressions you bore..." Zero's free hand was inside Kaname's shirt, feeling the lacerations along his muscled back, tracing the pus and fever that oozed from the untended, raw wounds. _Forty, _he had said, and even though nobody had spoken out, tension and disbelief had been palpable amongst the men after Kuran's flogging, and Finn had had to rally the men to gruffness. His fingers dipped into a deep gash and came away sticky and wet. _Father forgive me, for I have sinned...that night, the day after, and right now..._

"Then take this as payback, captain..." Kaname had found his way to the silver-haired man's rear, cupping the hard, sweaty flesh there.

_Seven hells, stop, please, or just bloody move..._Zero would have screamed and cursed, but with two hands in his pants, one behind and one in front, he had been robbed him of words, and could only rock back and forth, muffling his moans onto Kaname's damp shoulder.

Kaname set his captain against the bars and held him with work roughened hands. Used only to quality fabrics, Zero's skin felt the callouses of each finger and palm like sandpaper around his waist, sliding up, down, inching everywhere...driving him_ mad_.

And from there, it was this madman's game of touch and go that would haunt his captain's dreams for nights to come.

Kaname's hands were devastating enough, but in the dark, unable to see and even less able to think, invisible lips marked him and tasted him, and everywhere they touched his mouth set Zero's skin aflame, deadly as a scorpion's touch. Zero's head lolled back against the bars, his one hand twisting in its bonds, the other clutching Kaname's thick hair. He arched and bucked unnaturally, slamming his hips forward and coming up only with Kaname's scratchy linen pants, searching for feverishly for warmth and friction. Pushing back the captain's livery, damp and rank with sweat, Kaname held his sweat slicked waist and coaxed his throbbing length to an impossible hardness. Unthinking and yanking Kaname's hair demandingly as the sailor worked his way from Zero's ear to his abdomen, Zero moaned and rubbed himself in Kaname's hand, wanting nothing but for this to never stop, to only intensify.

"One for your temple, two for your cheek...three on your jaw, the fourth by your lips, five, six, seven, for the shark's white neck...eight and nine, for your shoulder's hollow edge...ten, eleven across your chest...twelve to eighteen, one on each rib," Zero thrashed his legs and arched into his mouth, caring only for the elusive warmth of a whisper, "nineteen on your hips, and twenty...just shy of your need...I'll stop at twenty, captain, because I am the kinder man."

* * *

Through the haze of intoxication and rapture, Zero barely made sense of Kaname's voice, lilting and husky through his heavy breathing, counting for every kiss he gave. But suddenly, just like that, Kaname stepped back, taking his hands and lips with him. Zero was left hanging high and dry, flailing, growling incoherently at the loss of his warmth. _Stop, come back, no, NO, NO, _Zero wanted to scream, frustrated and kicking against the wall in a tantrum. It was then, furious, stymied and with his pleasure unslaked, that Zero made a very big mistake.

"_KURRAAAN!!!!!!" _he roared.

* * *

Blessed with a voice that could bellow commands in a gale, Kaname's name was sent reverberating stridently throughout the entire Seamaster, much to the shock of the men who looked first in the direction of the cabin, then at Rhon, who blanched and indicated the ship gaol underneath.

"The captain...he...Kuran locked himself in the cell..." he trailed off lamely.

"Back to work!" Hern scolded, and the conversation was adjourned till two hours later, where they sat in their bunks resting.

Beak snorted, feigning disgust to cover up admiration. He tugged out the pair of silken maroon boxers, belonging to the captain, that Kaname had stolen and draped like a flag on his hammock, saying, "can't be. Ain't no sane bloke gonna have a show a week after forty lashes. Why, he wun' ev'n be a-strollin down t'stairs much yet. Betcha tha' was jes a quickie...who's seen 'im take a piss? He has nuthin' we never seen, all that high talk about having the thickest spear from the Orient to the Nile..." but he looked up anyway, catching Finn's gaze. The Norseman raised his golden brows and shrugged. "That foolish brat..."

"Captain Kiriyu is an honourable man," Miles intoned doubtfully, looking at the maroon boxers for a misplaced reassurance of his statement. Keith patted his massive shoulder sympathetically, knowing that his friend wasn't very bright.

"So am I," came Kaname's voice, and as one the men turned to see their fellow climbing gingerly through the door. He tossed a damp cloth at Finn, then lay carefully, chest down, on his hammock. "It's good to be back," he said, before drifting off into a satisfied slumber.

Finn held up the cloth for all to see, and they noted its smooth lace trimmings and golden embroidery. It was their Captain's necktie.

* * *

A big thank you for all the encouragement so far!

IT has been. Long. Tiring, very tiring. Reviews would be very good, any criticism is welcome, any thought on the language, the description, the flow of the story, and of course, the yaoi! Not complete yet, I'm intending to rewrite the earlier chapters to make them longer and more detailed...any opinion on that?

REVIEW!


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